What is poetry? Yamil Narchi Sadek World Literature 4th grade
Brainstorm Poetry is many things… then…  How do I recognize it?
Disposition HE IS MORE THAN A HERO by Sappho (about 610-580 B.C.) He is more than a hero He is a god in my eyes — the man who is allowed to sit beside you — he who listens intimately to the sweet murmur of your voice, the enticing laughter that makes my own heart beat fast. If I meet you suddenly, I can’t speak —  my tongue is broken; a thin flame runs under my skin; seeing nothing, hearing only my own ears drumming, I drip with sweat; trembling shakes my body and I turn paler than dry grass. At such times death isn’t far from me     THE "Red Death" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had ever been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its seal --the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with dissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the face of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid and from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure, progress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an hour.     But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his presence a thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his court, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his castellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure, the creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong and lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The courtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and welded the bolts. They resolved to leave means neither of ingress or egress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The abbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might bid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of itself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The prince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were buffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there were musicians, there was Beauty, there was wine. All these and security were within. Without was the "Red Death."  Line
Disposition Paragraph …  in prose.      THE "Red Death" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had ever been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its seal --the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with dissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the face of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid and from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure, progress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an hour.     But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his presence a thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his court, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his castellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure, the creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong and lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The courtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and welded the bolts. They resolved to leave means neither of ingress or egress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The abbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might bid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of itself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The prince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were buffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there were musicians, there was Beauty, there was wine. All these and security were within. Without was the "Red Death."
Disposition Stanza Stanza …  in poetry.    PHENOMENAL WOMAN by Maya Angelou Many people wonder where my secret lies. I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model size. But when I start to tell them  They think I'm telling lies.  I say  It's in the reach of my arms,  The span of my hips,  The stride of my steps,  The curl of my lips.  I'm a woman,  Phenomenally. I walk into a room  Just as cool as you please,  And to a man  The fellows stand or  Fall down on their knees.  Then they swarm around me,  A hive of honey bees.  I say  It's the fire in my eyes,  The flash of my teeth,  The swing of my waist,  The joy in my feet.  I'm a woman,  Phenomenally.
(We will not keep them all) 7 definitions of poetry:
Poetry is an essence of beauty and truth that lies beyond, waiting to be discovered by the artist.
2. Poetry is an incredibly boring torture usually enjoyed only by sadistic teachers. Its mention on its own sends chills down the spine of students.
3. POETRY FOR DUMMIES (Timpane and Watts), first quote “ Poetry is something human beings have always done and always loved.” Have you had a great experience  with a poem?
POETRY FOR DUMMIES “ Poetry is the practice of creating artworks using language.”
4. Poetry is a genre of literature that is richer in music and meaning than the rest. Its bases are: In music, rhythm, not rhyme In meaning, mainly metaphor and  other rhetorical figures (or figures of  speech) Examples
 
Who’s Who I always thought nurses Were women. I always thought the police Were men. I always thought poets Were boring, Until I became one of them. Benjamin Zephaniah
5. PRENTICE HALL GLOSSARY or MCDOUGAL LITTELL: p.1263
6. It is a third elaboration of language that names what cannot be named in the previous two. It is, therefore, the most literary kind of literature.
Elaboration 1 A woman says to a man:  “ I like your naked body.”
Elaboration 2 “ I like the way I feel love when I am with your naked body. I feel that I belong and that you belong to me.”
Elaboration 3 “ Underneath your clothes There’s an endless story, There’s the man I love, There’s my territory, And all the things I deserve For being such a good girl, honey.”
7. Poetry is a game about breaking all rules: In sound In sense In form In grammar Etienne Fajardo
The sky the  sky  was  can  dy  lu  minous  edible  spry  pinks shy  lemons  greens  coo  l  choc  olate  s.  un  der,  a  lo  co  mo  tive  s  pout  ing  vi  o  lets   e. e. cummings
 
Real poetry doesn’t say anything, it just ticks off the possibilities… opens all doors. You can walk through anyone that suits you. If my poetry aims to achieve anything, it’s to deliver people from the limited ways in which they see and feel.  James Douglas Morrison,  “ The Lizard King”
How was it born? In the origin… What cannot be said in other words…
Why is it still here?
3 steps to an effective approach: Listen to its MUSIC Focus on its IMAGES Sort out its MEANING Does it have to do with you?
Conclusions
5 characteristics: 5 characteristics (today): Attentiveness Concentration Experimentation Originality Form (POETRY FOR DUMMIES)
Thanks!  Enjoy the day!
What is a metaphor? It is usually a rule of 3: Relationship of 3 elements, omitting the one in the middle: “ Your eyes are skies.” eyes- blue sky- blue eyes-blue-sky eyes=sky X
What is a metaphor? “ Your lips are rubies.” lips- red rubies- red lips-red-rubies lips=rubies …  but in some cases you might only keep one element X

Poetry

  • 1.
    What is poetry?Yamil Narchi Sadek World Literature 4th grade
  • 2.
    Brainstorm Poetry ismany things… then… How do I recognize it?
  • 3.
    Disposition HE ISMORE THAN A HERO by Sappho (about 610-580 B.C.) He is more than a hero He is a god in my eyes — the man who is allowed to sit beside you — he who listens intimately to the sweet murmur of your voice, the enticing laughter that makes my own heart beat fast. If I meet you suddenly, I can’t speak — my tongue is broken; a thin flame runs under my skin; seeing nothing, hearing only my own ears drumming, I drip with sweat; trembling shakes my body and I turn paler than dry grass. At such times death isn’t far from me    THE "Red Death" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had ever been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its seal --the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with dissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the face of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid and from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure, progress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an hour.    But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his presence a thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his court, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his castellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure, the creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong and lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The courtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and welded the bolts. They resolved to leave means neither of ingress or egress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The abbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might bid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of itself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The prince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were buffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there were musicians, there was Beauty, there was wine. All these and security were within. Without was the "Red Death." Line
  • 4.
    Disposition Paragraph … in prose.    THE "Red Death" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had ever been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its seal --the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with dissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the face of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid and from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure, progress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an hour.    But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his presence a thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his court, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his castellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure, the creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong and lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The courtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and welded the bolts. They resolved to leave means neither of ingress or egress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The abbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might bid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of itself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The prince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were buffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there were musicians, there was Beauty, there was wine. All these and security were within. Without was the "Red Death."
  • 5.
    Disposition Stanza Stanza… in poetry.   PHENOMENAL WOMAN by Maya Angelou Many people wonder where my secret lies. I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model size. But when I start to tell them They think I'm telling lies. I say It's in the reach of my arms, The span of my hips, The stride of my steps, The curl of my lips. I'm a woman, Phenomenally. I walk into a room Just as cool as you please, And to a man The fellows stand or Fall down on their knees. Then they swarm around me, A hive of honey bees. I say It's the fire in my eyes, The flash of my teeth, The swing of my waist, The joy in my feet. I'm a woman, Phenomenally.
  • 6.
    (We will notkeep them all) 7 definitions of poetry:
  • 7.
    Poetry is anessence of beauty and truth that lies beyond, waiting to be discovered by the artist.
  • 8.
    2. Poetry isan incredibly boring torture usually enjoyed only by sadistic teachers. Its mention on its own sends chills down the spine of students.
  • 9.
    3. POETRY FORDUMMIES (Timpane and Watts), first quote “ Poetry is something human beings have always done and always loved.” Have you had a great experience with a poem?
  • 10.
    POETRY FOR DUMMIES“ Poetry is the practice of creating artworks using language.”
  • 11.
    4. Poetry isa genre of literature that is richer in music and meaning than the rest. Its bases are: In music, rhythm, not rhyme In meaning, mainly metaphor and other rhetorical figures (or figures of speech) Examples
  • 12.
  • 13.
    Who’s Who Ialways thought nurses Were women. I always thought the police Were men. I always thought poets Were boring, Until I became one of them. Benjamin Zephaniah
  • 14.
    5. PRENTICE HALLGLOSSARY or MCDOUGAL LITTELL: p.1263
  • 15.
    6. It isa third elaboration of language that names what cannot be named in the previous two. It is, therefore, the most literary kind of literature.
  • 16.
    Elaboration 1 Awoman says to a man: “ I like your naked body.”
  • 17.
    Elaboration 2 “I like the way I feel love when I am with your naked body. I feel that I belong and that you belong to me.”
  • 18.
    Elaboration 3 “Underneath your clothes There’s an endless story, There’s the man I love, There’s my territory, And all the things I deserve For being such a good girl, honey.”
  • 19.
    7. Poetry isa game about breaking all rules: In sound In sense In form In grammar Etienne Fajardo
  • 20.
    The sky the sky was can dy lu minous edible spry pinks shy lemons greens coo l choc olate s. un der, a lo co mo tive s pout ing vi o lets e. e. cummings
  • 21.
  • 22.
    Real poetry doesn’tsay anything, it just ticks off the possibilities… opens all doors. You can walk through anyone that suits you. If my poetry aims to achieve anything, it’s to deliver people from the limited ways in which they see and feel. James Douglas Morrison, “ The Lizard King”
  • 23.
    How was itborn? In the origin… What cannot be said in other words…
  • 24.
    Why is itstill here?
  • 25.
    3 steps toan effective approach: Listen to its MUSIC Focus on its IMAGES Sort out its MEANING Does it have to do with you?
  • 26.
  • 27.
    5 characteristics: 5characteristics (today): Attentiveness Concentration Experimentation Originality Form (POETRY FOR DUMMIES)
  • 28.
    Thanks! Enjoythe day!
  • 29.
    What is ametaphor? It is usually a rule of 3: Relationship of 3 elements, omitting the one in the middle: “ Your eyes are skies.” eyes- blue sky- blue eyes-blue-sky eyes=sky X
  • 30.
    What is ametaphor? “ Your lips are rubies.” lips- red rubies- red lips-red-rubies lips=rubies … but in some cases you might only keep one element X